I Already Promised Him
by Andria790
Summary: It doesn't take Tara long to realize why Ricks right hand man isn't by his side when he was expected to be. Maggie and Daryl live at the Hilltop, and if Daryl isn't here, there could only be one reason why.


**Just a little Disclaimer: I do not own TWD. There are references to abuse in this story, so please be aware before going forward. There are some lightly gross but not gory moments as well. I also want to give credit to Praxid. I used the horse idea in here from her story "Little Janie Reed" I believe it was, to furnish an idea in mine. She is fantastic. If you haven't read her stories you haven't read anything yet. Please search her and enjoy. It will be worth your time. This is my first story I've published for TWD. I hope it's alright. Please let me know if I did anything wrong and I can fix it. Thank's for reading!**

* * *

"Where is Daryl," Rick asked. Impatience hissed its way into the sigh at the end of his words.

"Beat's me." Tara said around the Twizzler hanging from her mouth like a sprig of wheat. She had one bag left. To her it was like smoking, that sugar rush before the oncoming fight. She didn't know what she'd do when she ran out. But then the red twisted candy stalk fell from her mouth as realization suddenly hit her. She looked up from the gun she had been cleaning, "Oh sh—"

* * *

"Shh-sh-sh." Daryl coaxed as Maggie breathed through a particularly violent contraction, "Easy." His voice was rough but calm. It had been a long night. He had taken to sleeping in the trailer with Maggie ever since the last month of her pregnancy had begun. With the others staying in Alexandria and the doc gone, and… Glenn... He just didn't want her to be alone. It didn't help that he kept thinking about Lori. It couldn't be far from Maggie's mind either. He sure as hell wasn't gonna let that happen again.

Her breaths came out in violent blasts. She was sitting in the most awkward position, but refused to move. One of her legs hung over the bed, while her opposite foot was tucked near her rear end. She had been leaning back on her arms for over half an hour now and the pillows and blankets he kept stuffing behind her kept compressing back into a useless knot on the cot. "Here," he couldn't see how that could be comfortable. Hardly thinking, he threw the bundle aside and placed himself behind her, both legs on either side of her hips. In a huff of breath she released her weight against him, head arched back on his shoulder. In any other setting, the motion would have seemed intimate, except it was not naturally Daryl's first inclination to think so.

The sun was coming from behind the pull blinds. Daryl knew he was supposed to have met up with Rick and the others by now. It wasn't an all out war today, but they were expecting some saviors to meet up with an outpost and they were trying to do away with them before they got there. The only way they knew how to beat this thing was to thin their numbers enough to help them win. So many people were dying. Carol was badly wounded from a gunshot that nearly hit her vertebrae. The Doctor at the Kingdom was certain she would be paralyzed if he operated. Carol told Daryl to put a bullet in her head before they let that happen to her. The idea had scared him so badly that he actually prayed the night of the surgery that she would pull through. That doctor had worked a miracle. Suddenly, Daryl felt as indebted to him as he always did to Hershel. If only Maggie's father were here now.

He looked down Maggie's shoulder. Her hair was caught in his facial hair. Her body was tensing again, very soon after the last contraction and she held her belly, below the bulge, and arched against him. The motion was so violent he had to catch himself quickly with his arms behind him, now mimicking her previous position, so they wouldn't fall back onto the cot. If only he could move her from the end to the side, he could just lean against the wall. But him in this position was easier than it would be for her as she struggled through the pain. She called out loudly. "Breath."

"Uhoh, shut up Daryl!" Maggie's words came out in a growl that sounded like they came from the underworld. He realized how inadequate his instruction was just a second after he said it. Suddenly she was reaching down, pulling at something, and Daryl quickly looked away. He hadn't mentally thought this far ahead. Her pants were off and he wished the bundle of blankets and sheets weren't unreachable on the floor right now. If this wasn't a woman's body who could speak her mind he'd've been able to flip a switch in his head to the time his neighbor let him help birth to their mare's foal.

He'd fed that horse and mucked that stall for his neighbor for a year while Merle was off at Juvie. It had taken some time for Daryl to trust his neighbor, but he would perch in a tree on the outskirts of that farm watching that horse, wishing he could take off on it somewhere far away. Leave his old man and fend for himself in the woods. Ain't like he hadn't done it before. His neighbor had made little sign that he had any idea about Daryl spying, day after day. But one day, making his way to the wood pile about twelve feet from the tree where Daryl held very still, his neighbor called out, "Ain't no need for you to be hiding. If ye wanna come out that ol' beech and say hello, it'd only be the polite thing to do." Daryl didn't move. His neighbor picked up a three split logs and made for the trunk below Daryl, squinting up at him in the hot afternoon rays. "I seen ye up there boy. Ye spyin' on me?" Daryl didn't speak, but the man was smiling. His cheeks heavily lined around his mouth, like he did it a lot. Daryl didn't know any men to smile like that and it made him uneasy. "Alright, well. If you ever wanna come down, my horse could use a comrade. An' you look like a strong lad. I could use a stable hand." The way the guy spoke, Daryl felt like he was reading his mind.

It was a bearable year, and that foal was the cutest thing Daryl had ever seen trying to stand up like that right after it's mom had licked it clean. Then one day, the old farmer told Daryl to throw some tack on that mare and he couldn't believe his ears when he told Daryl to mount her. From that day on, Daryl ran over for his lesson after school, until the day his dad beat him so bad he didn't go to school because his bruises were so visible. After a few days he went back to school then to the farm and the old farmer was real quiet most of the time he was there. He didn't respond to Daryl's lie about falling from a tree. Then, after seeming to have thought for a long while the guy said he "knew about his old man." Daryl didn't care what that geezer thought he knew. There was no way that he _knew._ Daryl ran home after that comment and never came back to the farm.

Daryl often thought about that farm after that, though. He now realized that the guy didn't need a stable hand, really, but that he felt bad for him, and was trying to give him something to do away from home. Daryl didn't want anyone pitying him. But he nearly often went back to ask to help again, because Daryl really did need an excuse to get away, just like he wanted to do with that mare. But by the time he got close to mustering up the courage to ask for a second chance, a day following a particularly bloody licking, Merle got back from Juvie. Just showed up, brazen as anything, at the front door like he owned the place. Daryl was pissed at him. But Merle had a way of talking to Daryl that made him pull out of his resolve to be upset. Just the right words, perfectly crafted to make Daryl feel stupid for being mad. "What's the matter lil' bro. You ain't sore at me are ya? Hell, I'd been locked up for a year and here's the welcome I get, after all I'd been through?" The next day Merle found plenty for Daryl to be busy with. No matter how much Daryl wanted to tell Merle to take a walk, he just found himself suckered into Merle's whims. Merle took him to ice cream that first night as a celebration for his return with money he'd stolen from their dad's wallet while he was sleeping off his hangover. "Our ol' man owes us a trip to the ice cream shop wouldn't you say baby bro?" Merle said with a smirk after slowly closing their dad's bedroom door. Daryl mirrored his smile, but in the back of his head, he knew they would feel it later. Their dad's booze money was meticulously monitored. They'd just had to make it worth it. A double chocolate Sunday for Merle and a banana split for Daryl later, Merle was showing his teeth when accused for the theft. A new fire was in him after his incarceration and there was a violence in his voice that made Daryl hear their old man far too much for his liking. But Merle was different. He was defending Daryl too and there was something about that he could never see in his father. Merle was bigger now that he was back. His arms had a ripple to them that they lacked when he had left. Then Merle swung. Their half drunk father hit the ground with a heavy thud. Another blow came and then another until Daryl started seeing bruises bloom on their old man's face, "Merle!" Daryl shouted after he'd been pulled from his stupor. Merle's fist halted above his head and he was breathing heavily. Merle cussed, turned to Daryl and it was the first time he'd seen fear on his big brother's face apart from the when he was under the belt. "Les'go," was all Merle said when he grabbed Daryl's hand and they were running. Just running until Daryl couldn't keep up anymore. They walked the rest of the way to one of Merle's friend's houses and they stayed there for a few days. Daryl never tried to talk to their neighbor again. He didn't even try to spy on the horse either. Their father had a new rage, but Daryl thought that he was choosier about what fights he picked with Merle. When Merle left again it was for longer. The military had taken the one thing that kept his ol' man away.

Whatever happened to him reinforced Daryl's resolve. He wasn't gonna let anyone abandon Maggie or her baby. Not if he could help it. Not even now that that switch didn't seem to be working. Not now that she was half naked hanging off her cot. Daryl tried a different approach. It might seem gross to someone else but helping a horse give birth was not nearly as jarring as gutting an animal as large. And he'd done that far more often. So he put himself in hunting mode. Suddenly he was all business. Weird smells didn't seem to phase him, the blood and water came and he just let himself help do what needed to be done. He'd often used tactics like this to aid his mind to get through things that were hard to bear. The sun was no longer in front of the trailer. He didn't know how much time had passed, how many times she'd cried out when the time came that she told him that she needed to push. Her teeth clenched hard and in her brief respite she breathed for him to get ready. She ended up on all fours at one point and he had to remove some unpleasant excrement to keep things as sanitary as they could. But he just moved on. After all, he had accidentally severed a buck's intestines before and that was much harder to clean up. A wave of relief hit him when he could see the tip of an orb emerging. But they weren't out of the water yet. "Alright, it's coming." He sensed her nod without really seeing it. She was pushing again. And it was coming out more quickly than he expected. He thought about the foal now. How they needed to work the opening around the shoulders a bit. He cradled the head in one hand and waited for her next push. He could see her tearing, but she didn't seem to react besides a large gasp at the end of her push. "I got the head Maggie."

"Again." Was all she said, and she was pushing a fourth time. He had to quickly brace the body and the shoulders began to come out on their own. He was overwhelmed and thoroughly terrified that he would do something fatal to this new life. But he was floored by the strength of this woman doing what someone had once done for him. The baby was half way out. He felt like one more push would do it. And it was only half a minute he had to wait before that was happening again. The strain seemed enormous. But quicker than he expected the small slimy bundle slid out the rest of the way connected by the chord. He caught the body and his heart leapt into his throat. Was he supposed to hear crying now? He was vaguely aware that the baby was a boy. He held the bloody mass to his chest, belly close and rubbed his back. "C'mon baby. C'mon." Then a wail that filled the small space met his ears and tears sprung to his eyes. He rushed to hand Maggie the baby, that was still connected to her because it took her that long to collapse back on the filthy sheets and lie on her back. Her tears were flowing down her cheeks as she stared unblinkingly at the reddish fleshy baby. Daryl stood there watching her, covered in waters. For the first time since this hell met earth, he was bloody all over so that he could bring life into the world, and not because he had taken it. Although, killing walkers and sometimes men was about keeping his family alive. Without realizing it, he was backing up. His foot hit something on the ground. It was the pile of blankets. He reached down and picked up the warmest of the bundle and brought it to Maggie's new obsession. He began to wrap it, and she silently helped him. "Hey… hey." He said, staring at the purple crying face. Maggie looked completely dumbfounded, then, something seemed to come over her. She lifted her shirt and before Daryl knew what she was doing, she was nursing the little guy. Daryl didn't look away this time. Something about this was… sacred. It was something L'il Asskicker had ripped from her. It was something countless children would never have. He didn't have to leave right now to find formula. He thought for sure Enid had stocked some up in the trailer somewhere. But it didn't matter. He did exactly what he wanted to do. He watched, faintly aware that he was smiling, really smiling with a bittersweet joy that he had never felt. Just like Judith, he would never let anything happen to him. He had always wanted to give what he never had. In a way, it completed him. It made him grow. People could take what he gave and instead of coming up lacking, he felt more complete. Maggie, gave him a wet smile, and mouthed words to him through an almost sob. "Thank you." Her lips said. She reached for him. He hesitated slightly, not wanting to mar this beautiful moment she was having. But it was Maggie and he came to her. She pulled his bloody, amniotic fluid covered wrist for him to squeeze next to her and the baby. He did, and it was uncomfortable. But he wouldn't have chosen a single place to be in all the world. He placed his arm around her shoulders to give himself some equilibrium and didn't really notice that he was softly massaging Maggie's shoulder. "Hey little guy." His rough voice felt out of place here. He looked at the woman next to him. Admiration exuding his gaze. "Uh-" he cleared his throat, "What're ya gonna name 'im?"

She made her lips tight in that way she did when she felt a little sad or solemn. And she cocked her head to one side to look down at the sweet peacefully feeding boy. "I'm callin' 'im Hershel." Fresh tears sprung to Daryl's eyes. His memory of her extraordinary father came flooding to him with that same new feeling of pain and love. He turned his head, pulled Maggie to his and kissed her forehead. She looked up at Daryl and smiled. He returned a half cocked grin in response. She returned his kiss on his cheek. His face reddened a bit but he turned his attention to the little man. He tickled the blanket gently as he cooed at him. Daryl pet the pink fingers curled on top of the white woven cot blanket, far rougher than the skin beneath, though not as rough as Daryl's calloused finger. Hershel's eyes were open. Daryl was probably a gloppy mass to his vision but his tiny fingers opened and wrapped firmly around Daryl's dingy finger. Daryl let out a gasp and turned his head to Maggie in surprise. She was smiling at him, and she placed her forehead against Daryl's and they both looked down at Hershel. All there was was this new life in that moment. The only thing that existed for both of them was Hershel. And for the first time Daryl felt, even for that fleeting moment, that this is what family really was. "I'm gonna teach him to ride, one day."

"A motorcycle?" She asked, "By then I'm sure all the gas will be long gone."

"Nah," Daryl said, staring at Hershel, "I'm gonna teach him to ride horses."

"Oh, you're gonna teach 'im that?" Maggie said with a challenging smirk.

"Yeah," he said, not rising to her summons to contest, "I already promised 'im"


End file.
